


the kind that was burned first

by loosingletters



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Confusion, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Outsider, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Secrets, Time Travel, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, the twins are babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24479710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters
Summary: The Chancellor was revealed to be a Sith Lord orchestrating the war and had been taken down by an unknown assailant. As far as Ahsoka was concerned, mysteries should start unraveling now, not start accumulating, but then Obi-Wan had to return to the temple with a stranger and refused to let go of him.Or: Five times somebody wondered about Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker and his children because they don't bother to inform anyone of the fact that they time traveled and one person who didn't.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Leia Organa & Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 179
Kudos: 1779





	1. #1 Ahsoka Tano

**Author's Note:**

> It's my birthday! I wrote this waiting for the clock to hit midnight!  
> Enjoy!

Ahsoka was the first to know when her Master returned to the Temple. He’d been gone for a whole month at that point. A lot of Jedi had returned to the Temple after the Chancellor- _no_ , Darth Sidious, had been killed and his machinations revealed. It had blown up all over the holonet that the Republic and Separatists had been forced into this war. Of course, there were plenty who wanted the war to continue. War was lucrative, it filled the pockets of the rich and emptied out the wallets of the poor. During her years fighting, Ahsoka had been unfortunate enough to see the reality of war and how painful it was. She was glad for the experience, seeing the new Padawans and Initiates made it startling obvious how innocent she had been once. She was a better Jedi because of her experiences. She knew now that the Republic had been far from perfect and would need a lot of support to get back up on its feet. Her Master had always been very outspoken about it. Obi-Wan Kenobi, for all that he would have made a brilliant Senator, hated politicians with a passion. He had made sure to show her how the system actually worked as opposed to how it was supposed to work.

She had honestly expected him to stick around after Sidious’s death. In fact, she had expected him not to move even a foot away from the Council. Instead, Obi-Wan had disappeared. He had been acting strangely even before the war had come to a sudden halt, as if he had been disorientated entirely, trying to find his rhythm again. He had been acting similarly after the Hardeen mission. Ahsoka disliked thinking back to that time and she doubted she’d ever fully forgive him for it, but she’d seen how much it had thrown him off-balance. It had been unsettling to witness. She had contemplated confronting him with his behavior a couple times when she’d noticed his mood shift again, but she had always backed down.

It had been a mistake.

She wouldn’t make it another time.

When she felt Obi-Wan step into the Temple, Ahsoka abandoned her class with a rushed excuse and leaped into a sprint. She ran through the halls, evading the other Jedi with jumps and one particularly impressive spin. Quickly, she reached the entrance of the Temple where already a small crowd had been assembled.

“Master!” Ahsoka shouted and made her way through the people.

Obi-Wan looked up when he heard her call and smiled, brightly and happy Ahsoka hadn’t seen in ages. She wasn’t sure if she had ever seen him so relaxed. Objectively speaking, of course, he looked kind of terrible. He wasn’t well-rested, but he’d hardly ever been in the past years, and he was favoring his left side again. His old injuries must be acting up again and hopefully he hadn’t earned any new ones. What surprised Ahsoka though, was that her Master wasn’t alone.

Next to him stood another man, taller than him with dark blond hair and sky-blue eyes. He felt strangely in the Force, powerful and yet well-rested and content in the same way her Master felt to her. Ahsoka didn’t even notice it at first glance, but the man was holding a sleeping baby. A second look, directed at her Master again, revealed that he too was holding a child.

“Hello, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan greeted her. “I hope you’ve kept up with your studies.”

Ahsoka sputtered.

“Of course, I have! But where have _you_ been!”

It was supposed to sound like a question, but it probably came out sounding more like an accusation. Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mind, he only grinned and playfully knocked his elbow into the other man’s side. The man rolled his eyes fondly and adjusted his hold on the baby. A whole conversation seemed to pass between the two. Who was this man? Obi-Wan had a surprisingly large amount of random acquaintances all over the galaxy in all kinds of establishments, but none had ever seemed so close to him.

And Ahsoka didn’t know him so surely he couldn’t be a new friend, could he?

“Around,” Obi-Wan replied. “I had to go pick up a very dear friend. Ahsoka, I’d like you to meet Anakin Skywalker and his children, Luke and Leia. Anakin, meet Ahsoka.”

The newly introduced Anakin looked at Ahsoka like he was seeing a ghost. Ahsoka doubted anybody else would have caught it, but Togruta had heightened senses and she didn’t miss out on even the tiniest microexpression.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Ahsoka. Obi-Wan has told me a lot about you.”

“He has?” Ahsoka knew her Master was pleased with her, they wouldn’t be such a good team otherwise, but to think he spoke of her to a stranger.

“Yes, he has,” Anakin replied, grinning cheerily. “He’s quite proud of you, Snips.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flickered to Anakin and his expression fell for a second, but he quickly caught himself. “I’m sure you’ll be a great Jedi, Padawan Tano.”

Ahsoka bowed quickly. “Thank you, Mister Skywalker.”

Anakin hummed and once more adjusted his hold on the baby who was yawning by now, slowly waking up.

“Guess nap time is over,” he said, mostly to himself. “Obi-Wan, room’s still-“

“The same, yes,” Obi-Wan finished his sentence. The whole exchange was utterly bizarre to Ahsoka. “Go ahead. I believe I have a Council session waiting for me.”

Obi-Wan turned to Ahsoka as if waiting for her to reaffirm his statement. She hadn’t known of any sessions being today, but they had also stopped asking her about her Master’s whereabouts after the first week. Obi-Wan’s guess likely wasn’t off though.

“They have been asking for you,” Ahsoka simply stated.

Obi-Wan sighed and gave Anakin the second child. “I’ll try to be quick.”

“You always do and then you’re gone for hours,” Anakin said good-naturedly. “I’ll see if I can get some formula from the kitchens and get the twins settled in.”

“You do that. Let’s go, Ahsoka.”

“Yes, Master.”

Ahsoka watched as Anakin turned to walk in the directions of the kitchens as if he’d done it a thousand times. Now that Ahsoka took a closer look at him, he did remind her a little of a Jedi. Well, those Jedi that hadn’t been at the temple in a long while. His clothes were civilian clothes, but their cut resembled that of Jedi robes and he had this aura about him. The way he walked, his control of the Force also was distinctly Jedi like, only a little off. Maybe he was a Jedi, but Obi-Wan had called the children his and Jedi didn’t have families-

“Ahsoka!” Obi-Wan called.

Right, Council meeting. “Coming, Master,” she replied and hurried after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I guess I'l update the rest of the chapters within the next two weeks or so.


	2. #2 Mace Windu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have fun!

Obi-Wan’s guest was strange in a way that put Mace on edge and forced him to pay attention to Anakin Skywalker. The young man fit in too well at the temple while at the same time being obviously an outsider. Mace had assumed that the man had come with Obi-Wan to inspect the temple before he left his children there, that he was a stranger to the force, but that obviously wasn’t the case.

His control was too good, his signature too distinct.

Skywalker didn’t feel exactly dark, but he also wasn’t light. He reminded Mace of a canvas that had been painted over. The fact that he had Jedi training, but he was not in their registry also disturbed Mace. Mace had checked the databases of all other temples as well and none of them knew an Anakin Skywalker or had any knowledge of a human male with a midichlorian count of over 20.000. Mace had thought the number was a joke, a mistake of the machine, but Obi-Wan and Skywalker hadn’t been surprised at all. If anything, they appeared to have been joking about it as much as one could without opening their mouth. Given that they were both Force-users, there were quite a lot of options.

If Mace were to guess, he’d say that Skywalker had been trained by a rogue Jedi gone missing in the same way Asajj Ventress had been. Unlike her though, his training had been completed. Mace could read it in the way Skywalker carried himself, and crashed against Obi-Wan’s blade.

He didn’t know why the two had settled on sparring this morning, in the open training halls of all places as well, but news had quickly traveled through the temple. Obi-Wan’s guest was certainly a novelty. Obi-Wan had justified his disappearance with a hand wave and something about following the Force. The Master had never acted more like Qui-Gon Jinn than he had at that moment. Sometimes it seemed impossible that Obi-Wan was of Qui-Gon’s lineage, but right then and there nobody had been able to deny it.

The entire situation was highly unusual. Skywalker had pretty much moved himself and his children – both already so strong in the Force, frighteningly similar to their father really – into Obi-Wan and Padawan Tano’s apartment. The Padawan wasn’t complaining about it. In fact, she seemed to be quite taken with the twins. She grumbled about being woken up at night sometimes, but all in all, she seemed to be satisfied and happy.

Mace had decided not to think too much about where Skywalker was sleeping in the two-bedroom apartment since it very obviously was not the sofa.

So here he was observing Obi-Wan and Skywalker spar, hoping to gain some insight into their arrangement, instead of dealing with cleaning up after Sidious. Mace had never regretted being on the Council more than he had in the past weeks. The next time the Sith decided to rise, it better be when he had already passed into the Force so he wouldn’t have to personally sign off another investigation.

Skywalker spun his training saber and frowned at it unhappily. The man hadn’t come with a lightsaber, his possessions could be reduced to the clothes on his back in fact, but it was obvious that he used to have his own ‘saber. Not just one he found somewhere, but one he had crafted. He fought well with Obi-Wan’s, there was an ease to it like you’d expect a Master to have when handling their Padawan’s ‘saber, but he was annoyed with the training ‘saber he was stuck with. Mace should know. Even when he didn’t outwardly show it, he also disliked using the training blades when instructing a younger class.

“Ready?” Obi-Wan asked half a second before Skywalker was already attacking him.

Skywalker was a good- no, he was an _excellent_ fighter. He had definitely mastered Djem So and appeared to be proficient in the other forms as well. Here and there he was missing a step like he was relearning how to execute already mastered moves. It was reminiscent of somebody who had been banned from training for a longer period of time due to an injury. Sometimes Skywalker expected his reach to be wider, his blows to hit harder, but with every second he was adjusting more and more. Sometimes he executed a move that reminded Mace hauntingly of Vapaad, but worse. Even more aggressive, requiring not just control of those emotions, but a complete submersion that ended with coming out on top again. Skywalker fought like he had drowned and was relearning how to breathe.

However, Skywalker was not the only surprise. Mace hadn’t seen Obi-Wan fight in a while, but he was sure the last time he had gone all out, his fighting style wasn’t so Soresu heavy. He usually still incorporated Qui-Gon’s Ataru, but that appeared to have vanished entirely out of his repertoire, replaced with rougher moves, reminiscent of an actual lightsaber form that wasn’t quite refined yet.

“Stop,” Obi-Wan said, frowning.

His saber was almost at Skywalker’s throat. He took a few steps back.

“Again?” Skywalker asked. “That last swing-“

“-out of synch-“

“Think if we-“

“Yes, but only-“

“-go up, yeah.”

Then the exchange was over and Obi-Wan was attacking. He aimed higher than before and Skywalker spun around him. The two of them had obviously achieved what they were aiming for, indistinguishable as it was, and continued on, grinning half-madly.

If Mace didn’t know better, he’d say that Obi-Wan was either trying to achieve something completely new or relearning something very old. There had been a lot of different lightsaber forms over the centuries. The seven the Order had restricted itself to had been chosen because they were the best in each aspect. It meant that they provided the least risks with maximum protection. They weren’t raising their younglings to throw away their lives with risky maneuvers. What Obi-Wan way attempting to discover here was definitely dangerous, and Mace doubted that anyone else would be able to pull it off. There was just something this battle required, he couldn’t put his fingers on it.

“Go beat him, Skyguy!” Padawan Tano cheered from the side.

The twins were lying next to her in their crib, sleeping gently. It was a surprise they hadn’t woken up from all the noise surrounding them. Then again, the Force was quite steady and loaded with happiness here. Perhaps they were dreaming sweetly.

“Whose side are you on, Padawan mine?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Mine of course,” Skywalker replied cheekily. “She always has been.”

Obi-Wan smirked and tripped Skywalker with his foot, causing the man to fall. Skywalker noticed it quick enough that he reached for Obi-Wan’s shirt and pulled him down with him. They both crashed to the ground spectacularly, but it didn’t seem to bother either.

Skywalker only smiled and the Force replied for him in kind, calling back with all the warmth it could measure up without burning.

Connection, Mace thought. What Obi-Wan’s developing fighting style needed was a _connection_ between himself and his opponent. This went far beyond attachment, every hit displayed how dangerous it was and yet, Mace couldn’t find the energy in himself to object. Not when the Force was so very obviously approving of it.

Maybe it was time someone else became the head of the Order. Mace had led them through the war and he was tired of it. Somebody else should be made responsible for Obi-Wan’s silent revolution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative Title: Mace Windu and the horrible terrible no good day he discovered he's gonna retire and take a vacation.  
> Anyway, Anakin and Obi-Wan are breaking the code and nobody can measure up enough energy to care lmao.  
> Thank you for reading!  
> Next up is Qui-Gon and the plot thickens.


	3. #3 Qui-Gon Jinn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad so many people are enjoying this story!

Qui-Gon would always be proud of Obi-Wan. He had been a fool when his Padawan was young, having been unable to see his potential. Obi-Wan had grown into a formidable Knight and Master, little Ahsoka certainly was a credit to his skills. She was strong and wise, even compared to the other war-time Padawans as they had shamefully begun calling the youths who hadn’t seen anything but the battlefield.

The fact that Obi-Wan had accepted a seat on the Council would always be an issue between them, but lately Qui-Gon felt like it didn’t matter as much as it once used to. Obi-Wan had always been strict about following the code, likely something that stuck with him from his last year as an Initiate, but in the past months he hadn’t just been lax about it, he was outright breaking it. Everybody was busy trying to find their place in the order and peacetimes again, so Obi-Wan’s behavior got sort of ignored, or tolerated. Either way, his Padawan didn’t seem to care too much.

“Good morning, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon greeted his former Padawan.

Obi-Wan had taken to spending a lot of time in the Room of a Thousand Fountains with young Anakin and his children. Little Luke and Leia were a delight to be around. They had recently learned how to crawl and were causing the appropriate amount of trouble. Neither their father nor Obi-Wan were particularly interested in putting them in the crèche with the other children, so mostly they were watching them by themselves. Ahsoka helped out as well, dragging her friends with her into babysitting. It was fun to see the Padawans fumble with the children when neither were even particularly fussy babies. Truth be told, Qui-Gon had never seen them throw a tantrum or cry for long. They always appeared to be very happy and content.

“Good morning, Master,” Obi-Wan said.

He smiled at Qui-Gon and motioned for him to sit down on the grass next to him. Qui-Gon obliged and allowed himself to enjoy his Padawan’s presence as it had been a while since there were enough hours to spare for some actual peace and quiet. Obi-Wan didn’t say a word, he just continued observing the twins and their father.

Anakin was lying on the grass as well, barefoot and shirtless, while the twins were crawling all over him. His chest was slowly rising and sinking again, he was sound asleep. Like everyone else, Qui-Gon had been and still was curious about Anakin’s origins. As a Jedi, Qui-Gon was no stranger to scars and Anakin had a lot of them. Most of them were quite old and spoke of life-threatening injuries like you wouldn’t normally find on Core Worlds.

After a couple minutes of silence, Obi-Wan suddenly got up and walked over to the three. In the same moment, the twins began crying, heartbroken and so fearful, their emotions resonated in the Force. That however couldn’t even begin to compare with the onslaught of fear, anger, worry, devastation and pain that assaulted Qui-Gon’s senses after. It threw him off balance so harshly that it took him a moment to recognize it was coming from Anakin. The man wasn’t moving at all, not a single muscle twitched. The children continued on crying as Obi-Wan sat down next to them. He put his hands on Anakin’s temples and lowered his head so that their foreheads were touching.

He was whispering to Anakin, but Qui-Gon couldn’t make out the words he was saying. He thought he caught memory flashes of flesh burning, betrayal, and regret, but they passed so soon, he couldn’t really make out a proper image.

Slowly, very slowly, the oppressive aura lifted. It got easier to breathe again and Qui-Gon could stretch out his senses. They were very deep in the room, hidden away in a small corner hardly anyone ever came to. Perhaps they had chosen this spot not to hide away but to spare others this experience. Qui-Gon wondered how regularly these fits happened that they were so prepared for it. He was just glad nobody else was around. A Padawan experiencing this torture would certainly get caught up in a flashback of the war. No wonder the children had begun to cry. Something horrible must have happened to Anakin, but Qui-Gon didn’t think it was his place to ask.

Anakin opened his eyes, tears still running over his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Shh,” Obi-Wan replied. “I’m sorry, dear one. Never again, I promise. I’ll never leave your side again.”

“I-“ Anakin’s eyes darted to the crying twins, then widened in horror. “They can’t be here. You have to take them, hide them somewhere safe!”

“Anakin-“ Obi-Wan began to say, but the other man wasn’t listening, too caught up in whatever dream he had awoken from. He got to his feet and stepped back from the group.

“My own daughter,” Anakin said and took another step back. “And I cut off his hand-“

“It hasn’t happened here,” Obi-Wan sternly cut him off.

Anakin wasn’t deterred. He was caught up in his panic like a cornered lothcat, ready to lash out if he couldn’t disappear.

“No, but I remember it anyway. Just- I can’t do this today.”

And with those words, Anakin turned around and stormed out of the area. Obi-Wan sighed and picked up the twins instead, humming soothingly. They buried their heads in Obi-Wan’s tunic and their crying subdued into silent sobs. The whole exchange couldn’t have taken longer than a minute, but to Qui-Gon it felt like decades had passed, draining his Padawan entirely. The war had exhausted all of them but only rarely had Qui-Gon seen Obi-Wan show openly that he was weary to the bone.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan apologized unnecessarily to him. “Today hasn’t been one of the better days.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon replied. “Your companion is haunted by many ghosts.”

Obi-Wan glanced into the direction Anakin had disappeared to. If not for the children in his arms, Obi-Wan would probably chase after him. Whatever was going on behind the scenes, the two of them needed to talk about it soon. If this episode really wasn’t even one of the worse ones, Anakin needed serious help, more than a Knight could provide. He needed a mind healer. Qui-Gon wasn’t going to voice his concerns though. It wasn’t his place. He could, however, support his Padawan in different ways.

“Do you think Luke and Leia would enjoy a trip to the planetarium?” Qui-Gon mused. “I’ve been meaning to stop by there again as I haven’t been in a while. I can take the two off your hands for a few hours.”

“Master, there’s no need. I can take care of them on my own.”

As if to prove his point, Luke and Leia stopped sobbing entirely and instead began cooing and babbling.

“I am not questioning your abilities. I am merely stating that I have time and wouldn’t mind spending some time with-“ Qui-Gon halted to find an adequate term, but after concluding he couldn’t find a better synonym, settled on the truth, “-your children. It is no bother.”

Obi-Wan looked conflicted and Qui-Gon was reminded of all the times he used to play around with his Padawan braid when he was nervous. He hadn’t thought of it in years, but the memories weren’t unwelcome.

“In fact, I believe I will enjoy it,” he added. “The two are very strong in the Living Force, you must have noticed.”

Obi-Wan’s expression softened and he even smiled in amusement.

“What do you say?” He asked the twins. “Do you want to spend the morning with your grandmaster instead?”

Of course, the twins couldn’t reply, but they also didn’t protest when Obi-Wan handed them over to Qui-Gon. They were confused, but then quickly entertained themselves by attempting to reach for his hair. Qui-Gon should probably braid the loose strands so avoid getting his hair pulled.

“Thank you, Master,” Obi-Wan said.

“Go help your friend, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon just replied. “He needs you.”

And going by the speed Obi-Wan rushed after Anakin, he needed him just as much. Qui-Gon waited another few minutes, then set out to take the twins to the planetarium; and if he made a few stops across the whole temple until it was lunch time and Obi-Wan and Anakin came to collect Luke and Leia, then that was his business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really just Qui-Gon going "guess I'm a grandfather now".  
> Thanks for reading!  
> I'd love to hear what you think!


	4. #4 Padmé Amidala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unsurprisingly, this is the longest chapter so far.

Padmé was once more regretting that was she was the overachiever of her family. None of them did well with idle work. Her father had worked with refugees of which some had detonators in their bodies, her mother had been the mayor of their home village, Sola had her eyes set on reforming the educational system of Naboo and Darred was a prominent lawyer. Nobody in her family had set their goals low, but Padmé had to go out of her way to become first Queen and then Senator and now she was overworking herself trying to get a grip on all of Palpatine’s machinations.

His manipulations had run so deep, there were nights where she and her handmaidens, sisters in all but blood, stayed up until the early morning hours, letting off steam and trying to figure out how to fix it. There were days when Padmé thought they might not be able to fix it, that the Republic would be better off if they cut it completely and built it up anew from the ground up. Padmé knew she couldn’t dwell on those thoughts, they weren’t productive, but she found herself tapping into that body of thought more often than she was comfortable.

One thing that never did fail to comfort her was the steady presence of the Jedi. They had been shook to the core just as much as every other institution, but they appeared to adapt to this changed atmosphere much more quickly than the Senate. The Jedi were fewer people, governed themselves differently, but after the past nine long months, they had returned to some sense of normalcy. The clones, those that had decided to stay at least, were making their way through the temple as if they had never belonged anywhere else.

Two of them welcomed her kindly at the Temple’s entrance. She was a known figure to the as she had fought visibly and openly for their rights for years. The two guards wore blue tabards over their tunics and armors, they must have been part of Master Jinn’s 501st then. Out of all the battalions, she might know them best. Master Jinn’s creative problem-solving style had often made him her companion during her missions.

“Senator Amidala,” one clone greeted her. “Meeting with the Council again?”

“Yes,” Padmé replied. “Would you be so kind as to inform the Council?”

The clone saluted and allowed her to step into the Temple. She was one of the few Senators who actually bothered to work more closely with the Jedi. Their standing hadn’t been great in the first place, but now people were asking how the Jedi hadn’t known about the Sith Lord when it was their job to protect the Republic. People wanted answers and they were calling for blood that shouldn’t be shed. Padmé had been the target of such accusations as well. It wasn’t fun.

She made her way up to the tower where the Council resided. She’d been working with them intimately to finally finalize the clone’s citizenship as well as sort out how the Jedi would react to future demands of the Senate. The Order had suffered greatly, their losses not exactly visible for people who didn’t know them well, but she’d been here when she was but a little girl playing Queen herself. Their rooms used to be fuller, the amount of Jedi with visible injuries less.

Padmé stepped onto the floor the Council room was on. The hallways were empty with the exception of a young man walking up and down with two babbling toddlers. Their steps were not entirely steady yet, they must have just begun learning how to walk. It was enlightening and disheartening at the same time to see such young children in the Jedi’s care. From the whole Cad Bane fiasco she’d learned that the Jedi didn’t usually take anyone younger than the age of two unless there were troubling circumstances surrounding their home life.

“Dadadada,” one of the children babbled.

The man leading them, a Knight going by his lack of braid, laughed. “Yes, I’m here, Leia. And we are waiting for Obi-Wan to be done. Can you say Obi-Wan?”

“Bah!” The other toddler squealed excitedly. “Bah! Bah! Bah!”

“Oh-Bi-Wah-N. Where are you getting that ‘Bah’ from, Luke? Repeat after me, Obi-Wan. C’mon, show your sister how it’s done.”

The Knight emphasized every syllable, but the child just happily continued on rambling as he had before. The Knight just sighed and slowly maneuvered the children around again so they were walking into her direction.

Padmé couldn’t help herself, she laughed.

The Knight probably hadn’t noticed her before as his head whipped up quickly.

“I apologize,” Padmé said. “But those two are quite adorable.”

“Yes, they are.”

The Knight’s reply was short, standoffish. Nothing unusual for a Jedi, but his demeanor was world’s away from the open kindness he had shown the children. Padmé attempted not to take it personally.

“I’m-“

“Senator Amidala, I know.” He wasn’t looking at her, not really, and instead turned to glance at the Council chamber doors. “Are you here for a meeting?”

“Yes,” Padmé replied. “I overheard you speaking, are you here to talk to Master Kenobi as well, Master…?”

The Knight swallowed. “Skywalker. My name is Anakin Skywalker.”

Right. He didn’t seem all that interested in conversation, so Padmé decided to just take a seat at the nearest chair and wait for the Council to call her inside. She knew their sessions could take longer sometimes and had brought her datapads to keep busy. These days she didn’t have a single minute to spare.

Knight Skywalker had returned to his task of walking up and down with the children, though by now he appeared to be much more nervous than before. It made it hard to work or concentrate.

One of the children, the dark-haired one he had called Leia, was tugging at his hand and reaching for her.

“Leia, darling, no-“

Little Leia apparently didn’t appreciate being told ‘no’. It reminded Padmé charmingly of her own nieces.

“It’s alright,” she told Skywalker. “I don’t mind it.”

But he, rather obviously, did mind it. In the end, Leia won though and slowly made her way over to Padmé.

“She’s a curious one,” Padmé said, making faces for the little girl, causing her to giggle.

“She really is. Luke is more careful, but I think that’s just because he focuses more on other’s emotions. Leia has better control of her own, doesn’t get spooked as easily too-“ Skywalker cut himself off. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t need to hear this.”

And yet Padmé felt like she ought to. “It’s nice to hear something different than just politics all day,” she said. “Tell me more?”

Skywalker still didn’t look at her properly, but he did begin talking about the twins and their many adventures. They were the youngest in the Temple currently and growing faster than he or Master Kenobi could keep up with apparently. It took a while for Padmé to question that.

“You are their father, right? Forgive me if I am rude, but I thought Jedi didn’t have families,” she finally said.

“They don’t,” Skywalker replied. “But they are my children and I’ll always be their father.”

“Then Luke and Leia are very lucky children,” Padmé said. “They are very happy.”

Now Skywalker did look at her and it felt a little like he was trying to read her mind. Jedi couldn’t, that she knew, but it still felt like he was staring right through her.

“Are you happy?” He asked her.

Padmé carefully schooled her face into a neutral expression. It was a difficult question. Of course, she wasn’t happy that she had helped a Sith Lord come into office. Everyone was suspicious of her, Padmé would be lucky if she was still in the Senate by the end of the year. Now that it was clear that Palpatine had played both sides, not even Padmé’s many speeches against him amassing power could protect her against the silent accusations. The Senate was working much to slow, she didn’t have any time for herself or her family.

So, no. Padmé wasn’t really happy, but what choice did she have?

“I am glad the internal investigations are finally picking up,” Padmé answered diplomatically.

Skywalker shook his head. “No, I meant are you, personally, happy.”

She didn’t see how that was any of his business, but there was a desperation to his question that she felt compelled to answer.

“I am,” she said. “The war is over, the fighting can stop and I can-“

_Figure out who I am when I’m not representing millions of sentients, but just myself._

The doors to the Council opened and Master Kenobi greeted them. He looked at her, then at Skywalker and back again at her, now frowning.

“Anakin, is everything alright?”

Skywalker rose from his seat next to her. “Yes, I needed this. You were right, I put this off too long.”

Kenobi observed him a little longer, then sighed. “Alright, if you say so. Was there a reason you were waiting for me?”

“Yes!” Skywalker smiled now. It made him look a lot younger. “Watch this.”

He helped Luke and Leia to their feet and took a small step, the twins following after. Kenobi’s eyes widened and he moved closer to Skywalker, taking Luke’s hand in his instead.

“They’re walking!”

Skywalker was positively glowing. “Yes, Senator Amidala was the first to see it beside me.”

Oh, she hadn’t known that. “The first time, really?”

“Yes,” Skywalker said as Kenobi walked around the hallway with the two, utterly besotted. “Ahsoka’s going to be jealous, she’s wanted to be here for it.”

“Did you record it?” Kenobi asked.

Skywalker rolled his eyes. “Who do you take me for? I don’t want to miss out on anything.”

He sounded so determined saying it, like he’d do everything to ensure it. Padmé couldn’t recall the last time she had heard such a passionate declaration in the past weeks. If Knight Skywalker could be so certain, then perhaps she should be as well.

“I hate to take you away from this, Master Kenobi, but I believe we have a meeting?” Padmé said.

Kenobi gave the children back to Skywalker, looking a little sad. “We do, if you would, Senator?”

Padmé entered the Council chambers, newfound strength running through her veins. She had survived being the target of more people than she could count, she would see the Republic through this crisis and she’d force them to listen to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Padmé didn't really have the time to ever be herself and just belong to herself. I think that's one of the legitimate reasons Anakin and her fall so hard and fast for each other. Thank you for all your lovely comments! I didn't expect this story to take off so well.  
> I'd love to hear what you think about this chapter!


	5. #5 Shmi Skywalker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second last chapter! Enjoy!

The last time Shmi Skywalker saw her son, he was walking into the desert at night. He’d been hurt all over and decided that he would not survive another day under their Master’s hand. Their Master wouldn’t dare to blow him up, so hopefully Anakin would make it through the night and off this awful planet quickly enough. Shmi had kissed him goodbye, filled his pockets with everything useful and sellable they had and saw him off.

She hadn’t been able to fall asleep after, too worried for him, and yet forcing herself to prepare for the beating that would await her in the morning. Their Master would be upset and Shmi would have to bear it, but at least her son would be free.

She held onto that thought come morning when their Master came to demand their service and began shouting at her, his face turned red. It almost made Shmi miss Watto. The Toydarian had hurt them as well, but he had never raised his voice so much. She’d been able to ignore him then, focus on the pain and lullabies she hummed beneath her cries.

“Where is he!?” Their Master had screamed into her face.

“Here.”

Shmi looked up from the ground and stared at the entrance to their small home where Anakin stood. He looked so much older than he had last night and much more exhausted too. But there was also something else lingering just beneath the surface that she couldn’t name. It reminded her of the hours before a sandstorm when the wind chimes still played their songs but the air was already becoming hard to breathe.

“Leave her alone,” Anakin said, voice flat.

He didn’t sound like her son, Shmi realized. That was what disturbed her. His intonation was off, his body language strange. He stood straight like he wanted to draw attention to himself. No slave stood so proudly, so sure of themselves.

This wasn’t her child anymore.

Their Master’s face twisted into an angry growl. “How dare you, boy!? Where have you been? Answer your Master!”

He hated Anakin, always had, and used every opportunity to ruin her dear son. Every day Shmi had always been forced to watch, to ask Anakin to please bear it so he might survive another day. Their Master only kept Anakin around because his worth as a mechanic outweighed his costs.

The spirit who had taken hold of her son was more powerful than her child. Anakin would fall on his knees, apologies and beg as he swallowed his rage, but the spirit did no such thing.

“ _You_ are not my _Master_ ,” The spirit snarled.

Their owner took a step forward and then he suddenly stopped. His hands went to his throat and he began choking. His eyes were wide in shock, drool ran out of his mouth and Shmi watched as their tormenter dropped to his knee and died painfully. It was just like in the stories of slaves disappearing into the desert, returning with the storms to wage war on all the Masters.

The spirit’s breathing calmed and cold blue eyes stared at the body on the ground.

“Have you come to free us?” Shmi asked the spirit.

He turned to look at her again, all coolness suddenly disappearing from his face. As if thunder had struck him, he took a step back, helplessness overcoming him.

“I-“

Whatever he wanted to say was interrupted by two piercing cries. He jumped up and rushed outside only to return with two crying bundles. Almost panicked, he began to rock them, but the cries wouldn’t subside.

“Please,” he begged. “I know you didn’t ask for this, please stop crying.”

But the children, newborns if Shmi were to guess, wouldn’t calm.

“May I?” She asked.

The spirit wearing her son’s face observed her, then, hesitantly, gave her one of the children. Dark brown hair covered the babe’s head and their scream was as loud as that of the krayt dragon. Softly Shmi began rocking the child, singing and walking around the small room until they stopped. The other child calmed as well, though the spirit’s attempts at caring for them were by far not as eased as hers. He was like a japor tree, too stiff and harsh, like he was standing only because he was still forcing himself to.

“I used to do the same with my son,” she told the spirit. “Is he still in there?”

The spirit froze, but it was all the answer she needed. Her dear Anakin was gone then, had disappeared into the dunes and left a shifter his body so he may do what Anakin couldn’t.

“Someday, again, maybe,” the spirit answered. “I don’t know. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, I just wanted to erase my mistakes and myself, not this.”

He looked at the child in his arms. The babe was wide awake now, but silent. Their eyes were as blue as her son’s had been, as the spirit’s still were.

“What are their names?” Shmi asked instead of lingering on the spirit’s distress.

“Luke and Leia, they were my children once.”

Their names were beautiful, strong too. The spirit had chosen well for them, they would survive even the harshest of droughts.

“And now they are not anymore?”

The spirit looked lost. His expression reminded Shmi painfully of Anakin. He’d lost that openness as he’d grown older, but as a young boy he hadn’t been shy to show what he was thinking. He had been so bright then already, his being much too big for his small frame.

“They shouldn’t exist,” the spirit said, his voice full of hope despite, or perhaps exactly to contrast his spoken words.

He loved his children, that much was clear to Shmi. She didn’t want to imagine what he’d do to the person who would dare to come in-between him and these two young souls. He had killed their old Master with ease, she doubted he’d afford the same mercy to whoever chose to hurt them.

“My son shouldn’t have either,” Shmi said. It was a common story in the slave quarters, but for Shmi it held true in a way it didn’t for most. “He doesn’t have a father. You’ll find a lot of impossible things in this galaxy.”

“I know,” the spirit replied. “But I stole their rightful parents in my selfishness. I wanted them to grow up happy and safe, nothing more, and yet here they are again, suffering for my mistakes.”

Her Anakin would probably smack the spirit upside the head now. Slaves couldn’t afford to pity themselves or wallow in regret. It was a lesson they learned early on, the spirit must have forgotten it.

“Then perhaps this is what you are here for, to make up for your mistakes.”

The spirit laughed bitterly. “I can’t fix the whole galaxy.”

Shmi thought of her son flying through Beggar’s Canyon and counting the stars at night, even when his lungs ached and his feet were bleeding.

“My Anakin wanted to.”

“I know,” the spirit repeated once more. “He was a fool.”

Anger rushed through Shmi and the spirit, as if sensing the suns burning his flesh, startled, tearing his eyes away from Luke to look at Shmi instead. Shmi could tolerate a lot, her life had been nothing if not a lesson in patience and endurance, but the shifter in her son’s skin wouldn’t talk badly about the gift he’d been given at the cost of another.

“But he has something worth living for. Can you say the same of yourself?”

“I’ve lived four more years for my son and I wanted to erase time for my daughter,” the spirit said slowly. “I don’t know how to do anything but live for others.”

“You ought to learn it then, and when you have, return my Anakin to me.”

The spirit’s lips twitched upwards, an echo of a smile shining through. “Are you bargaining with me?”

The storms settled. The colors slowly disappeared from the sky and left behind the vibrant blue of a new day.

“You spirits made the rules of this desert, I am merely following them. Accept what you have been given to do your work, return when you are finished.”

“I don’t know how to finish, I’ve never known where to start or stop.”

The spirit was being difficult on purpose. Shmi huffed and handed him his daughter back, helped him adjust his hold on her. He needed some sort of carrier bag or perhaps a scarf so he could wrap both children to his chest.

“It seems to me like you are I need of a teacher then. I cannot teach you freedom.”

Shmi looked at her dead owner lying on the ground. She would take her tracker from him, cut it out of herself be free. She could hardly recall what freedom was, she’d been too young when she was captured to understand what luxury she’d been living in. She had to figure that out for herself first before she could show another.

“Do you know someone who can show you?”

“I-“ The spirit’s eyes clouded over and then he closed them. “He’s _alive_.”

“You know where to go then?” Shmi asked him.

“Yes,” the spirit answered. “Yes, I know where to go. Shmi Skywalker, I promise you, you will see your son again.”

“I will hold you to that promise then.”

Her son returned to her almost two years later. He couldn’t stay, but Shmi had always known he was meant for something greater than the dunes of Tatooine. He was still holding onto the spirit’s children, walking and talking chubby toddlers by now, but he also brought a stranger with him. The man that was introduced to her as Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, had the same old eyes as her son.

Spirits, Shmi learned as she watched the two interact, left their marks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was torn between making this Shmi or Rex, but Shmi won. The next chapter might take a while since we're tackling The Grand Reveal and some other stuff and I highly doubt I can wrap this up in under 1K.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> I'd love to hear what you think!


	6. +1 Count Dooku

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!

_Isn’t the most tragic love story_

_the one that never had the chance to become?_ _  
_ **_The kind that was burned first,_ ** _  
_ _Came crashing down after,_  
_And finally bled to death in the cold ocean deep_ _  
_ _Before even one word could be exchanged?_

_\- Thoughts about Icarus & Apollo_

Dooku had spent three miserable years imprisoned, wondering when and where it had all gone wrong. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t oblivious to his own flaws. He was well aware that he could be arrogant at times, a trait not even Master Yoda’s many meditations had been able to get rid of, but his solitary confinement did force him to occupy his thoughts somehow. With the control he’d learned from birth, he forced himself to go through his every memory, examining even the moments he loathed to remember. Dooku knew now that he never should have let Sidious influence him for so long, Fall for his manipulations instead of Falling for his own beliefs. Created darksiders were never quite as mentally sound as those who had come to the dark on their own. Ventress had been a good example of the latter. Never a true Sith, no, she wasn’t worthy of that title, but her darkness had left her sane where many others of Sidious’s acolytes had submitted to madness.

Now that even the last cracks Sidious had left in his mind had healed, Dooku was beginning to reevaluate his situation and found that he had significantly more power within the safety of his prison than he has assumed. He easily could have been sentenced to death, but the Republic’s new and so Palpatine-distant leadership had spoken against it. Too much death had marred their space, or so they claimed, and Dooku would be a good source of information, should he decide to speak. He hadn’t so far as there was nothing to gain from it. He had been promised a lot, certainly, but while he had enjoyed the riches that came with being the Count of Serenno, he had been brought up as a Jedi. He didn’t need life’s comforts to keep thriving. Nowadays, with his mind clearer and sharper than it had been since before his Fall, Dooku knew that there was something he wanted enough to break his silence. He was plagued by a never-changing vision he was forced to relive in his every nightmare for years now. He wanted answers so he could finally put it to rest.

“I’ll be taking my leave then, Dooku,” Qui-Gon announced.

Like a clockwork, his former Padawan showed up once a month, first asking whether Dooku was willing to give up any final Separatist and Sith secrets, then continuing to speak about their lineage. The news he brought of Obi-Wan were truly fascinating. Dooku had regretted being unable to secure the young man as his apprentice. He was clever, but now Dooku was aware that Obi-Wan was much smarter than he had given him credit for during the war. Truly, he was a master negotiator now walking the fine line between debate and manipulation.

He was certainly a credit to their lineage.

“Bring your Padawan and his partner with you the next time you come,” Dooku told Qui-Gon. The Jedi, ever the diplomat Dooku had raised him to be, didn’t show even a hint of surprise. “I might feel inclined to share some details.”

Qui-Gon only nodded shortly, then left the room, his brown robes flaring behind him. Such dramatics for a man so keen to claim he only sought peace and calm.

Satisfied, Dooku bid Qui-Gon farewell. Neither the Senate nor the Council would let Dooku wait for long. Back in his cell, he fell into a light meditation and waited.

He had become very patient in the last years, the days passed so quickly they were hardly worth counting.

It took barely a month for his request to be fulfilled. Dooku wasn’t surprised to see that his own Master had come along, likely he was there to attempt to get a read on Dooku’s reactions. He didn’t particularly care about hiding his own intentions. In fact, if it became clear that he wasn’t here to lie and spread dissent, it would only work in his favor. Dooku wanted honest answers and Kenobi and the supernova called Skywalker would be able to provide them, at their own expense.

The two of them were a sight to behold as they entered his humble cell. They moved in total synchronicity, something you hardly saw these days anymore. It took years to master such control and affinity. He would have enjoyed dueling the two of them at least once. Obi-Wan was already a terror on his own, but with the backing of Skywalker’s endless power, they could have been the content of legends.

Yoda had accompanied them as well but waited outside. His former Master had only visited him once during the beginning of his imprisonment and their discussion likely would have ended with them crossing blades if not for the fact that neither had been holding onto their ‘sabers. Yoda had to hand his own over and Dooku was certain his own was back in a holding cell in the temple. Obi-Wan and Skywalker both sat down at the table.

“I welcome you to my humble abode,” Dooku said. “How are the two of you?”

Skywalker was the impatience to Obi-Wan’s serenity. He hid it well, let Obi-Wan speak for him and hardly contributed to the small talk, no matter how many questions Dooku directed at him.

“Count,” Obi-Wan finally gave in. Skywalker’s annoyance must have been wearing him down as well. “What do you want? You’ve refused to speak for years, what changed?”

“I’ve grown annoyed with Qui-Gon’s visits and ramblings about your children. Really, Obi-Wan, I’d never have taken you for a revolutionary.”

Skywalker’s eyes narrowed as soon as Dooku mentioned the twins. Truthfully, Qui-Gon hadn’t said much about them, but the way he spoke about them said enough.

“What do you want?” Skywalker hissed.

Dooku leaned back in his chair. Their chit-chat was over, Skywalker was agitated and would misstep if Dooku just played his cards right.

“You see, when my Master died, I was allowed a glimpse into his mind,” Dooku began to speak. This time, Skywalker wasn’t quick enough. He tensed and straightened his posture. “I saw so much shock, not a surprise considering his visions of grandeur, but also a lot of hatred and anger, the latter largely not his own.”

It had overwhelmed Dooku in that moment, sent him to his knees and left him wondering if that was the true darkness. Depths so horrid he wouldn’t ever be able to reach them, no matter how furious he was at the state of the galaxy. It had been so deeply personal, the hatred that stemmed from being entirely unmade.

“I’ve been puzzling about that moment for three years now, hoping it would become more clear-sighted. The longer I’ve been left here on my own, with only my thoughts and Qui-Gon’s incessant ramblings, the more did the vision take shape. I saw a man standing above Sidious. He was young, eyes burning, flickering like the colors of the skies. His words were the most confusing though.”

Skywalker and Obi-Wan had paled considerably. Happy with himself, Dooku smiled in content as he quoted the words that used to sound like white noise back at them.

“ _‘You will not enslave the galaxy again._ ’ Tell me, does the Order know it’s been harboring a Sith all these years?”

Skywalker flinched and Obi-Wan rose quickly as if they were in a duel and not seated at a table. So the Order wasn't aware of Skywalker’s nature. Curious, Dooku would have thought it was a reason they let Obi-Wan get away with so many transgressions when it came to Skywalker while the rest of the Order was still so slow to change and accept its own amendments.

“Anakin is not a Sith,” Obi-Wan replied fiercely in defense of the other. The argument would have been more convincing had he kept his calm.

“I have been wondering why Qui-Gon has been so insistent on visiting me all these years, and I believe I have found the answer.”

The Jedi were taught from birth that there was no returning from the dark side of the Force and yet Qui-Gon had been entertaining him when he really should have just let go of Dooku, washed his hands clean of him as Yoda had. Instead, they had talked more civilly with each other lately than they had when Dooku was still a Jedi.

Qui-Gon hadn’t just begun tugging at a non-existent bond for no reason, he had been hoping for a change. It had been this thought that tipped Dooku off. Someone must have planted the thought that Dooku needed to be saved in his mind. Unfortunately, he couldn’t even claim that his former student was wrong. Dooku couldn’t reach for the light, not yet perhaps, it still knocked the air out of his lungs, but the dark wasn’t exactly comfortable still either.

“You might not be a Sith anymore, but your once were,” Dooku told Skywalker. “The taint of the dark never really leaves. Somewhere in between killing Sidious, finding Obi-Wa and returning to the Temple with him, you crawled out of the deepest pit of the dark side, breaking centuries of Jedi teachings while you were at it.”

Skywalker’s hands were clenched to fists. Dooku didn’t need to hear him say it, he had his answer already. No matter how much Obi-Wan would attempt to deny it now, perhaps even attempt to skillfully manipulate the situation in his favor, Dooku knew the truth now.

“Were you Sidious’s other apprentice? I assumed he would have a back-up in case I decided to betray him. He was not much of a banite Sith unlike his own Master,” Dooku continued. “I wondered about your words as well. Was it a vision of the future that forced you to destroy him? Or something more? His thoughts were a mess, but his confusion at your appearance clear. I just can’t tell whether he was shocked you were there at all or because he couldn’t recognize you.”

Skywalker kept silent as Obi-Wan once more started speaking. “Do you have anything concrete you’d actually like to say-”

“Vader.”

The word echoed through the otherwise silent room.

Obi-Wan looked at Skywalker with great concern, but Skywalker was staring at his hands.

“He named me Darth Vader.”

Skywalker looked up and there it was, all that righteous fury, that anger Dooku recognized.

“And I executed you at his behest.”

Obi-Wan took one of Skywalker’s hands. “Anakin-“

Skywalker shook his head. “You want the truth?” He asked, unnecessarily.

“Be my guest.”

“He told me to kill you and I did. I razed the Jedi to the ground. The old, the sick, the young, all of them slain by my blade. I didn’t stop, I hunted them all down to the last member. I killed my wife, I attacked my Master and for over two decades I did every cruelty my Emperor demanded from me. I watched as entire worlds were annihilated, I tortured my daughter, I injured my son because Sidious ordered his apprentice, _his slave_ , to do so. I did it all and worse, nightmares you can’t imagine that make the Clone Wars look like the joke it was.”

Obi-Wan was visibly struggling to keep his breathing under control the longer Skywalker talked, revealing every cruelty he had committed with so much honesty that Dooku believed it even when he knew it couldn’t possibly be the truth. And yet, the Force was not protesting. No, it was weeping with every word, crying for all the souls lost. It sounded like madness, like a horrible vision, a nightmare come alive-

“Time travel,” Dooku finally breathed. “Are you seriously suggesting you and Obi-Wan what- traveled through time? Ripped half the galaxy and its flow to shreds so you could right your wrongdoings?”

Skywalker shrugged, the gesture entirely too boyish for how his hard gaze was fixating Dooku, pinning him to his chair and this gruesome conversation.

“I was dying and begged the Force to take me. I never should have existed in the first place, a child created from nothing. It seemed reasonable to me at the time that something as grand as the power that binds the galaxy together should also be unable to unravel it like threads of yarn.”

“But you’re here.”

“Because of a shatterpoint, maybe. In one timeline Qui-Gon found me on Naboo, in another he didn’t. I didn’t ask for Obi-Wan to come with me, nor did I deserve my children’s presence, but here they are, keeping me tethered to the light. I’ve never been able to hold onto causes for long, I need people around me. You were right when you said that the taint of the darkness will always cling to me. When I faced Sidious, I was so ready to Fall again, return as Vader and ruin myself once more for others.”

Dooku turned to Obi-Wan. “You interfered. I thought I had heard a second voice call out, but I believed I had imagined it.”

Obi-Wan only frowned. “Yes. As soon as I felt Anakin arrive on Coruscant, I knew what he’d do.”

“So you stopped him.”

The conclusion was easy to reach, but Dooku suspected that it hid a thousand more declarations. Obi-Wan would have left the Order for Anakin, perhaps even would have stayed with him had he Fallen again.

“So I did,” Obi-Wan agreed.

Their gazes rested heavily on Dooku’s shoulders. Who would believe him, should he ever reveal the truth that had just been laid bare in front of him? And what more, what would he gain from it? Nothing, Dooku realized. All he’d earn would be Skywalker’s fury, which was so immense it compelled the Force to fulfill his wish, even if not in the way he had wanted it to.

“Why tell me?” Dooku asked once he found his voice again. “You had no reason to.”

“You would have gone digging anyway,” Skywalker replied. “And you’re the only one who figured it out despite being locked away. The others in the temple just got too used to us acting oddly I suppose. I hardly recall what the code actually is and Obi-Wan has been taught better by my son.”

“And you can’t necessarily do anything with this information,” Obi-Wan added. “All you know now is what awaits you when you side-step.”

Yes, Dooku could see that with stunning clarity now. Perhaps this confrontation had been of use for him after all. He didn’t think Skywalker would let anyone who was a threat to his family stay within his reach for long. Dooku would have to reevaluate his plans for the future. He wasn’t a hopeless fool who fought battles he couldn’t win.

“If you were Sidious’s apprentice, I assume you know about his Sith secrets?”

Skywalker snorted. “Yes, but only those he ever saw fit to show me.”

“I am relieved to hear his teaching methods didn’t change then. I shall tell you what I know, you may add whatever intel you have to present to the Council and the Senate.”

Obi-Wan actually looked surprised. “Why?”

“Insurance,” Dooku replied. “And I promised I’d share information with you if you showed up, didn’t I?”

Dooku had made no such promises, but Obi-Wan and Skywalker were kind enough not to call him out on it.

“And I have some knowledge of Separatist groups within the Senate still that might prove useful if you are willing to listen.”

Obi-Wan and Skywalker let him talk for almost an hour, interrupting only a few times to ask questions. At the end of their interrogation, they left the room with an abrupt goodbye. Dooku didn’t think he’d see them again, he was fairly sure he also didn’t want to meet with them again. The burden they were carrying was so heavy it threatened to crush him. There were kinder conversations he could be having.

“Impressionable, they are, hm?” Yoda asked him.

Dooku would have laughed if the knowledge he’d gained wasn’t still twisting his thoughts.

“Very much so,” he replied instead. “Tell me, have they spoken to you about returning from the dark side? I believe their theories have merit. I shall attempt to test them out.”

Yoda smacked his stick against the ground. “A troublesome student you were, troublesome you still are.”

“If you say so, Master. What has Qui-Gon been up to? He has spoken with much enthusiasm about the Order’s more recent reforms. How well are those actually going? He has always had a tendency to embellish his tales.”

Though, with Obi-Wan and Skywalker around, perhaps Qui-Gon’s impossible claims were more truthful than not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem at the start is one of mine I wrote back in 2017/18? I think? Either way, it inspired the tone of this story!  
> I have to say, writing this story was a new experience. I've never written an entire fanfic like this in a week, but it was fun to focus on this small project. It sure taught me a lot!  
> Thank you all for your lovely comments! They really mean a lot to me and made me smile like a fool!!!!!  
> I hope you enjoyed this ending? Not sure how many saw this coming (not me for sure, but my other draft wasn't working out so here we are.)


End file.
